Asleep and Awake
by messyhead
Summary: Jaime prepares for her wedding. Oscar prepares to let go.Thanks to NeesiePie. Thanks for reading  and reviewing!
1. Chapter 1

Jaime sat at her kitchen table, midterm exams piled in front of her. She had given the kids a challenging essay question which was proving equally challenging to mark. The din of the basketball game, though turned down very low, wormed its way into her head and she found herself reading the same sentence over and over. She glanced at Chris on the couch. He had very sweetly offered to help by taking half of the pile to mark the multiple choice section for her. She was slightly concerned that he was doing it while watching the game, but he was a conscientious person and he did seem to be doing most of it during commercial breaks, so they would surely be okay. She had just today bought him a wedding present - season's tickets for two to the Laker's games. It was going to make him incredibly happy. She thought she might attend a few games with him, and that he could take one of his buddies to the others. She liked basketball well enough, but not on the scale Chris did. She only hoped that he would not attempt to hang framed jerseys in their house once they were married.

She looked at her right thumb with irritation. It was "sticking" for want of a better word, and writing was tricky. She would have to call Rudy tomorrow and tell him about it. The last thing she needed right now was a bionic hiccup. There was so much to do in the next few months!

Now thoroughly distracted from her marking, Jaime pondered the conversation they had with Helen and Jim over dinner. They had been discussing just who would be included in the wedding party. Chris had chosen his oldest friend Gary Baum (somebody she wasn't entirely crazy about, to tell the truth) as his best man, and Tim Barnett, a pal from the OSI, as groomsman. Jaime was not quite decided. She thought her old school friend Brenda Stukey would be a wonderful bridesmaid. She was a bubbly person who brought fun with her wherever she went. And then of course there was Callahan. But then there was someone else Jaime wanted to be there for her - and she had to screw up her courage to bring the idea up to Chris and Jim and Helen.

She cleared her throat. "I was thinking that I want Oscar to stand up for me."

The three of them looked at her as though she had sprouted another head.

"What?!" sputtered Chris. "You want him to be - what - your bridesmaid?!"

"Noooo! I just thought..." This was not going to be easy. "I just thought he could be _my_ Best Man. He's done so much for me - I wouldn't even be here without him - and he's my friend."

"You wouldn't be here without Steve, either." Helen pointed out quietly.

"Well, I know that." Jaime felt defensive. "But I can hardly ask my ex-fiancé to be in the wedding party, can I?

Chris was looking as though he had just eaten something unpleasant. "I'm your best man!" he said.

"Better than that sweetie. You're the groom." Jaime replied soothingly, squeezing his arm.

"Oscar." he said, drawing the name with disgust. "I just look at him and see 'The Boss'. I don't want to see 'The Boss' on my wedding day! Besides, I don't even think he likes me."

"He _does_ like you!" Jaime protested.

"That's just weird." Chris said. "Would you like it if I had some woman stand up for me?"

Jim took Jaime's hand. She turned to him. "It is a little odd, sweetheart." he said quietly.

Jaime sighed and sat back in her chair. "Okay, okay, forget it. Sorry I mentioned it. You're right. It's weird."

"How about we put him right up front with family?" Helen suggested. "He should sit with Jim and me."

"Sure." Jaime replied, eager to end the conversation.

Chris dropped the pile of exams in front of her with a smile. He was being extra friendly - Jaime suspected her felt a little badly about the Oscar thing. "Thanks, sweetie." she said.

"Got more for me?" She handed him a few more, and he took them back to the couch. Jaime paused to look at the first page of multiple choice he had marked. Question 4 caught her eye.

_Gregor Mendel discovered the nature of dominant and recessive genetic traits by experiments with what garden vegetable?_

_a) turnips  
b) runner beans  
c) peas  
d) all of the above._

The student had correctly chosen _c) peas_. Why was there an "X" beside it?

Jaime felt a wave of irritation. "Christopher..." she called, as coolly as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Through the haze of sleep Jaime became aware that she was perilously close to the edge of the bed, squeezed there by her constant companion and noted bed-hog, Max. Dear as he was to her, she sometimes contemplated banishing him to the floor permanently. "Max!" she snapped. He didn't move. "Max!" she persisted, elbowing him. "Off!" He jumped down and she rolled back to the center, relishing all the glorious space she had to herself. But now she was awake, and she really ought to get up. Oscar would be here in an hour or so, and she needed to take a shower. She was suddenly struck by a funny thought. Oscar and Max were remarkably similar. Both large, dark, and intimidating to those who didn't know them, and sweet and loyal to friends. She wondered if Oscar was a bed hog too. She realized she could only imagine him lying in bed in a suit. Could she at least imagine him into a pair of pajamas? _Well that's enough of that! _She sat up, feeling as though she'd somehow invaded his privacy. Would she tell him he had a canine twin? She thought not.

As Oscar drove to Jaime's house he employed his usual technique. He imagined pouring all those awkward, intense, painful emotions into a jar and screwing the lid down very tight and putting the jar on a shelf. A high shelf. Right at the back. Every OSI psychologist he'd ever hired would disapprove, but it worked pretty well for him. It wasn't working today, though. He had to repeat the exercise several times to get any effect at all.

This morning he had awoken from a dream where he had been gently running his thumb along the hollow just under her collarbone, where it connected to the shoulder. How could his own brain torment him like this? Years ago he'd tried to make a bargain with his unconscious - _X-rated or nothing at all... either give me some satisfaction or leave me alone... please?_ But to no avail. His unconscious did as it pleased, and left him with a painful yearning for a woman he couldn't have. It didn't help that he was going to see her today.

Since she had retired from the OSI they had seen each other less, and rationally speaking, he knew it was for the best. Once she was married she would be busy with her new life and new husband, and Oscar would likely have hardly any reasons to see her at all. It was good. He needed to let her go. When finally left alone, surely his heart would knit itself back together. He was frankly embarrassed by his feelings for Jaime. He didn't think much of men who set their sights on younger women, and here he was, six years into a gigantic case of unrequited love for a much younger woman. And he didn't approve of the unrequited part either. It was pathetic, and suggested a dangerous detachment from reality. _And_ it hurt his pride. He was supposed to be impenetrable - the perfect Intelligence man - and he had proved to be so... porous. He'd kept a lid on it as best he could, confiding only in Rudy, who was a good listener and a sympathetic ear, but who could offer no solution to this most bewildering problem. A pill would have been nice.

Mind you - she was an incredible woman. He loved her fierceness and determination. She had never been intimidated by him, and always told him exactly what she thought. When she first starting working for him she had seemed like a fragile kid, and he felt terribly protective of her, but she had gradually blossomed into an incredibly intelligent and capable agent, reaching her prime a couple of years before she retired. Now thirty-two, she was brave and confident, loving and gentle. And of course the fact that she was astonishingly beautiful couldn't be ignored either. And _so_ charming. But then - if he was going to beat back this obsession, he oughtn't be concentrating on her strengths. He should contemplate her weaknesses. Did she have any? _She has a terrible sweet tooth...that's one thing. And when she's really upset her voice gets a little grating..."_

The perspiration trickled down his forehead and behind his ears. _Damn this car anyway!_ he fumed silently, as he opened all the windows. The warm air billowed in. He glanced at the speedometer. Eighty miles an hour. _Putz. _he admonished himself, easing his foot off the gas pedal.

"Come in Oscar! It's open." he heard her call.

He bounded up the stairs. There she was, smiling, in jeans and a pale blue t-shirt. "Hi." he said, a little breathlessly, and hugged her. _She's just one human being -__ not so special.  
_

"God, you're cooking!" she said.

"Yeah. Sorry. The air conditioning wasn't working. Here. I found blueberries at a roadside stand." he said, handing her a small basket.

"Well, thank you. You don't have to bring me something every time! Now that you're not constantly dragging me into some international crisis I'm quite glad to see you just for your own sake."

Oscar pulled off his jacket and tie and threw them over the railing. He undid his top shirt button and rolled up his sleeves, saying, "You know, I almost dread summer, because I'm so hot all the time. Death by suit. That's how I'm going to go." He fanned himself with his shirt front. He was aware that he couldn't quite suppress the stupid smile on his face.

"Sensible people go on vacation in the summer." Jaime smiled.

"I've heard that. I might just try it."

A thought dawned on Jaime. "You're probably the one that keeps the OSI like an icebox all the time, aren't you? I'm always freezing when I go in there."

"That would probably be me, yes. And all the other suits."

"Listen, I was hoping we could take Max for a walk - are you too hot? Do you want to cool off for a minute?"

"No, I'm ready, if I could trouble you for a glass of water first." Jaime took the blueberries into the kitchen and returned with water. Oscar guzzled it down as Jaime put on Max's collar. "I really might take a week off this summer," he said, taking the glass to the kitchen for a refill, "and go to Maine. My family used to go there when I was a kid."

"Really?" she asked, completely incredulous. "I have a hard time imagining you playing in the sand."

They ambled side by side down a long dirt road adjacent to Jim and Helen's place, under the shade of a row of tall Eucalyptus trees.

"So why are you in California, anyway? Something interesting?"

"Well, I've had one meeting already, and then Rudy and I are meeting at UCLA later. There are a couple of scientists there doing some promising work on cognitive acuity we want to check out. But of course," he added, theatrically, "I'm _really_ here to talk to you about that wedding of yours."

She laughed. "I bet."

"So what should I wear? A suit? A tux?"

"I'm not sure. If you wear a tux you might upstage the groom."

"Fat chance."

"Tall dark and handsome in a tuxedo." Jaime smiled, "It's a winning combo."

"Shucks." Oscar replied, feeling embarrassed and pleased at the same time. He scrambled for a joke to cover his discomfort. "Maybe something in powder blue with black piping and a frilly shirt? I'm sure I could pick one up in LA..."

"I dare you. And make sure the pants are a little short."

"So, a suit then." Oscar replied, deciding to leave the challenge where it lay. "That'll make a nice change. Grey?"

"Sounds great."

"More importantly, have you figured out what _you_'_re_ wearing?"

"Yes! Thank heavens. Helen and I found a lovely vintage dress last week - sort of an ivory color. It just needs a little alteration and I think it will be nice."

"I'm sure it will be spectacular." he said confidently. "Hey - let's see that thumb." he added, having suddenly remembered the conversation he'd had with Rudy.

Jaime held it up in front of him and wiggled it as best she could. It hardly worked at all now. "Huh." he frowned. "That's too bad. So you're coming to Washington when school's out?"

"Yup. I just hope it holds out till the end of term. I'm probably the only person in the world who has to fly across the country for a tiny little medical appointment."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." he replied. "So are you all ready for the wedding? Got all the uh, floral arrangements picked and all the napkin rings and cake and all that kind of stuff?"

"Ugh." She frowned and ran her hands through her hair. "I'm a terrible wedding planner, Oscar. "

"How come?"

"It's _so_ boring! All that fuss! Figuring out the guest list alone is incredibly stressful. If I had my way there would be about 20 guests, but there always seems to be some distant relative or a neighbor who will be inconsolable if they're not invited - and before you know it there are five hundred people coming."

"Five hundred?!"he asked, aghast.

"Well, no a hundred and twenty...but still..."

"Sensible people elope."

"Yeah." Jaime rolled her eyes. "Chris hasn't been a lot of help - he's been completely preoccupied with OSI business..." she glared at Oscar.

"Not my department!" he replied, throwing up his hands.

"Not that he's exactly dying to help anyway. He looks like a cornered animal whenever we talk about it. And Helen wants to help, bless her, but...oh never mind!" she sighed. "I'm probably boring you."

"You're not boring me, Babe. I just don't have much to offer." Now that his internal thermostat had settled, Oscar was enjoying the walk. It was a relief to be out of the city and out of the car. The sun was pleasant rather than punishing, the eucalyptus leaves shimmered in the breeze, and it was delightfully quiet. He liked the crunch of the dirt road underfoot. And of course her presence made it perfect. Almost perfect. It took effort for him to turn his mind back to the topic at hand and say, "It's going to be a lovely wedding. We're going to have a great time." He put his arm around her for a brief, reassuring squeeze. Perhaps he was flattering himself, but he could be fairly impenetrable when he put his mind to it.

Jaime's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you _really_ think that?"

"Of course!" he replied, a louder than he intended. Yup, he'd been flattering himself - he had to remember never to be complacent with her. Time for a change of subject. "Hey - did you know Rudy's bringing a _real_ date?"

"Really?!" Jaime asked delightedly. "He put down two on his invitation reply - but who is it?"

"I don't know if you know her - her name is Sarah and she works in Intel. Brunette, mid forties, tallish. She's whip smart and seems to like Rudy a lot. And he looks happy."

"That is so great! How long have they been going out?"

"Three weeks, maybe?"

"Wow. That's wonderful!" Jaime smiled. "Who's Steve bringing?"

"Whoo..." Oscar exhaled raising his eyebrows, "he's bringing Maddalena."

"The Italian bombshell, I believe you called her." Jaime said, wanly.

"Oh yeah."

"Do you think he's ever going to settle down?" she asked, with a tinge of sadness.

Oscar stopped in his tracks. "Don't." he said, pointing a warning finger in her direction.

"Don't what?" she asked, looking slightly guilty.

"Don't do that 'I've-ruined-Steve's-life' thing you do. Believe me, most men would pay good money to experience one week of Steve's life."

"Yeah. Well. I just worry he's not truly fulfilled. And...I suppose I don't quite approve." Jaime sighed. "Things might have been so different for him if only my memory had cooperated."

"But it didn't, Jaime." He grasped her shoulders firmly for emphasis. "Look, Steve is fine. Better than fine. He's one of my best pals, so you can trust me on that. Only a fool hangs on to something he can't have year after year. It becomes pathetic. He knows that. You sink or swim. - it's a choice."

"Sounds like you're talking from personal experience..."

"Oh." he dismissed, walking away. "I don't belong in this conversation."

"Ah, the man of mystery." she teased as she caught up. "What goes on in there, Oscar? You know a person's imagination can run wild without any facts to go on."

He frowned and kept his eyes on the road ahead.

"I've wondered if you're some kind of wild lothario in your off hours..."

"Jaime!" he boomed reprovingly.

"...or if you've got some long-term love hidden away from prying eyes..."

He turned his gaze to the tree tops. Perhaps if he ignored her...

"...and for one minute or so I thought maybe you were gay..."

He stopped again and looked at her irritably. He hated it when she pushed him like this. What had she said about Chris? A cornered animal? Suddenly Oscar could relate. "Haven't you got more important things to think about? Like whether to have a country and western band or a string quartet at your wedding?"

"Well, you know us women." she smiled. "We like talking about love." 

"Well, you know us men. We don't." he replied, sharply.

"Oscar Goldman!" she cried, giving him a shove, "just two minutes ago you were telling me all about Steve and Rudy's love lives, you big hypocrite!"

He laughed ruefully. "Touché."

She slipped her arm in his and they began walking again. "I'm sorry." she said sincerely. "I don't mean to rattle your cage. I just find it weird that we're such old pals and yet there's a lot I don't know about you."

"There's nothing to tell. Really." he said, mollified, enjoying her closeness to him. "I'm a solitary person. Not much of a romantic I guess." he added, bolstering his defenses.

"Uh - huh."

"Well you go on thinking I'm a man of mystery, because if there's one thing men love, it's mystifying women."

She laughed. "I've missed you, you know." She squeezed his arm.

"I've missed you too." he replied, as casually as he could manage.


	3. Chapter 3

Helen found her beloved Jaime sitting at her kitchen table, rubbing her eyes and yawning. As usual, she was delighted to see her, even if Jaime looked slightly grumpy and only half conscious.

"Good morning Sweetheart!" Helen said, kissing her on the forehead. "Want some coffee?"

"Please!"

"I'm meeting Bev Martineau and her daughter for lunch today. Would you like to come?" Helen asked hopefully.

"Um, maybe." Jaime was clearly unenthusiastic. "I'll have to check to see what I've got going on."

"How are you this morning?" Helen asked, placing a cup in front of Jaime and sliding into the chair opposite.

"I'm fine. Fine. Sorry - I'm just a little groggy. I had kind of a weird dream."

"Oh? You want to tell me about it?"

"Sure. Maybe you'll find it funny." Jaime smiled. "You don't mind? Other people's dreams can be so boring."

"Of course I don't mind! Unless it's a really loooonnnng dream."

Jaime laughed. "I'll try to be brief." She paused to collect her memory together. "It was the wedding day, and we seemed to be in an abandoned warehouse. Everything else was like a church, with the aisle and pews, but it was all concrete - dark, and kind of cold - but I was okay with it. Jim walked me up the aisle to the altar, and it was all touching and tearful and everything, and suddenly everybody noticed that Chris wasn't there. We were all looking around for him and there was some murmuring in the crowd - wondering if I'd been stood up. Then suddenly there he was - coming up the aisle wearing a hideous blue tux, and he was doing _disco_ moves. And he was dancing pretty well," Jaime giggled. "but it was ridiculously inappropriate and _so_ embarrassing. Then when he got up to the altar and took my hands, suddenly he was - get this - _Gilligan_ from "Gilligan's Island"! I looked around at the rest of the wedding party, and everybody was looking dead serious - except for Oscar sitting in the front pew. And he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Then Peggy Callahan yelled 'Hey everybody, look!' and pointed at a little pond that was on the other side of the warehouse. The whole crowd stampeded over there, because we just _had_ to look, and just as I pushed through the crowd to see it - and I knew it would be beautiful - I woke up.

"Well!" said Helen. How odd. Have you been watching a lot of re-runs?"

"Isn't that ridiculous?" Jaime laughed. "I mean _Gilligan! _Couldn't he at least have been the professor?

"Was Oscar laughing at you?"

"No." Jaime replied mildly. "He wasn't being mean." She paused. "You're not going to start analyzing are you?"

"Well isn't that why you told me about it?"

"No." said Jaime a little peevishly. "I just thought you would find it funny."

Helen rose up to retrieve cinnamon buns from the counter, and said lightly, "Well, you have to admit dear, that poor Chris doesn't come out of it too well."

"Well, yeah. But it was just a dream." Jaime frowned, twisting her coffee cup around on the table.

Helen put two buns down and looked at her dear almost-daughter as she stared intently at her cup. "Jaime, are your feet a little cold?"

"No!" Jaime looked at Helen in horror. "I _love_ Chris." She sighed and her expression became sheepish. "Maybe a little chilly."

"Well, I have just the thing."Helen said confidently, patting her hand. "It's a little game my mother played with me when I was marrying Steve's father. It might help clarify things for you."

"Okay." Jaime replied uncertainly.

"Here's what you do." Helen said, using the same tone of voice she used when reading the Monopoly rules, which she did every time they played, whether anyone needed reminding or not. "I want you to think of all the important men you have in your life. Don't leave anyone out. Now, you don't have to tell me who you're thinking of, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to take note of which of these men comes to mind first. The name that just pops into your head without you having to think about it. And I don't want you to tell me who comes to mind. Okay?"

"Okay." said Jaime, still uncertain as to the value of this exercise.

"Who makes you feel cherished?" Helen asked, rapid fire. "Quick now, quick! Before you think too hard."

"Oh, gee, that's a hard one. I'm pretty lucky that way..."

"Don't _think_, Jaime!"

"Right! Right...sorry." Jaime laughed. "Try another one."

"Who would you go to with a little wee problem - the kind you don't want to bother people with, but you can't quite help yourself?"

Helen watched Jaime's face. She was getting it. Jaime smiled and said, "Well, I'd have to admit..."

"Shh!" interrupted Helen. "Don't tell me!"

"Oops." said Jaime, covering her mouth.

"Who could you lean on if you had really big problem? "

"Umm...okay."

"Who makes you laugh?" _That's probably a difficult one_. _Jaime laughs so readily._ She decided to fire out questions more quickly, waiting only long enough to see an answer register on Jaime's face.

"Who's your closest friend?"

"Who understands you?"

"Who would go to the ends of the earth for you?"

"Who challenges you?"

"Who makes you feel a little lighter when you're with him?"

Helen stopped.

"Who irritates you the most?" she added.

Jaime expression was perplexed. "What...?" She frowned and a slight look of alarm registered in her eyes. "This game is supposed to be reassuring?"

"I believe I said it might help you 'clarify' things dear. Did you not get the answers you were expecting?"

"But..." Jaime's look was distracted. "But that's not..."

"Not what, dear?'

"That's not _right_." Jaime replied, turning alarmed eyes to Helen. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Helen took her hands. "I'm not trying to tell you anything. I just want you to listen to yourself."

"But I am listening to myself!" Jaime responded angrily. "I know what I want. I know what makes sense for me."

Helen didn't reply. She only gazed at her with what she hoped was an all-wise look.

"Do you know who I was thinking of ... mostly?" Jaime stammered, as though asking Helen to reveal a terrible secret.

"I think I do." replied Helen gently. "And it's not who you think I hope it is...if you know what I mean."

Jaime searched her face. "But then you know it's ridiculous. This game doesn't work. I don't have those kinds of feelings...for him..."

"Far be it from me to tell anybody about what they feel. Only you know that."

"No, it's ridiculous!" Jaime continued, reassuring herself. "And I don't think he... no. No. Impossible."

"I don't think it's _so_ ridiculous, honey."

"You don't?" Jaime asked, astonished. Helen shook her head.

Jaime put her head in her hands. "Oh my God. This is a little much. I can't think like this." She looked at Helen accusingly. "You didn't play this game with your mother, did you?"

Helen shook her head. "Just made it up."


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh Jaime, I'm so sorry." Rudy said, looking at her so sweetly she felt tears rising to her eyes.

"Don't be too kind to me Rudy. I'll cry."

"That's okay. You're safe with me."

"I know. Believe me". She shook her head. "I'm just a little sick of crying right now."

"Don't want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I'm feeling like a real skunk."

"Okay." he said kindly, turning his attention to her thumb.

He played with the range of motion and massaged the joints, and checked the movement of the thumb again.

"You did the right thing." he said, looking at her over his glasses.

"You think?" she asked, miserably.

"I do. I know it's a mess right now, but it would be a bigger mess five years from now."

"I suppose. It's just awful to feel like you're stomping on someone's heart. I seem to do a lot of that."

Rudy manipulated the ligament and frowned. He looked at the monitor in front of him.

"No you don't. You've never stomped on my heart." he smiled. "Chris will be okay - eventually."

"He'll hate my guts though."

"Probably." Rudy acknowledged. "For a while. So," he added, his tone changing, "what we seem to have here is a deterioration of the synthetic ulnar collateral ligament. I shouldn't be surprised, as the right hand gets a lot of use. I must say, I'm a little disappointed in the lifespan of this compound. You may be looking at more of this kind of problem in the future."

"I hope I'm still under warranty."

"Lifetime!" he said, as he began examining the other joints of her right hand. "So many moving parts in the hands. But I don't want you to worry. It's nothing that will affect your health. It's just an annoyance. And an excuse for me to see you. I can deal with this tomorrow. It should take just a couple of hours. Is that okay?"

"Sure. I've got nothing but time. Well!" she added brightly, "tell me all about this new woman in your life."

"Who told you - Oscar?" Rudy asked, already knowing the answer. He shook his head. "He has a big mouth."

"So?" pressed Jaime.

"Ah," Rudy said, a smile lighting his face, "she's wonderful." He stopped tinkering with Jaime's hand and looked at her. "It's just so nice to share things with someone. Just little things. The other night we saw a movie we both hated, and we even had fun hating it together. I'd forgotten how much I was missing."Jaime nodded and smiled. Rudy suddenly frowned. "I'm sorry, " he said, squeezing her arm, "I shouldn't be gloating away after what you've been through." He shook his head at himself.

"No, no, Rudy. I love it. I love seeing you so happy. It gives me hope." she admitted.

He smiled. "You're sweet. You'll meet her. I've told her all about you." Rudy switched off the computer monitor. By the way, have you been up to see Oscar yet?"

"No. I was going to see him this morning but he was busy, so I'm going to his office right after this."

"Well, you tell him from me that I'll be at his door at 6:30am sharp tomorrow."

"How come?" Jaime asked.

"We're on a new exercise program. We're running together."

"You're kidding!" Jaime exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I'd love to see that!"

"It's not a spectator sport. Believe me." Rudy replied.

"What brought this on?"

"It was Callahan. He's been a real bear for the last six months or so, and making her life hellish. So she asked me if I could do something with him."

"Has he been under a lot of stress?" Jaime asked.

Rudy looked away. "Oh, just the usual - and you know what that's like. Anyway I laid down the law with him about drinking less and getting more exercise - and decided I should heed my own advice. Try to work off that middle aged paunch." he said, patting his stomach.

'It's working for you." Jaime said admiringly. "You look great."

"Well, thank you. It's working for him too. Callahan and I are trying to keep an eye on him. It's a rough job, but somebody's got to do it."

"Yeah." Jaime agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

He bolted up from his desk when Jaime walked through the door. "Oh Oscar," she said, with a sad smile, "I really need a hug."

He met her halfway through the room, obligingly wrapped her up in his arms, and kissed her forehead. "What's the matter, Babe?"

"The wedding's off."

"What?!" he blurted. His first reaction was shock, his second was delight, the third was to feel guilty, and the fourth was to cover his tracks. "My God, Jaime - I'm so sorry." he said with emphasis. "What happened?"

"It just couldn't go through with it." she said sadly.

"Oh, Babe, I'm sorry.You must be feeling pretty battered." What did this mean for him? _Nothing. Nothing. It means nothing. _

There's ... someone else." she added cautiously.

His mind reeled. His stomach hit the floor. "Someone else?" he parroted. _How is this possible? Who the hell is it now?_ Oscar wasn't sure he could bear it. Whoever it was, he would have to hunt him down and kill him. Or maybe he'd just kill himself instead. Could he imagine himself making pleasantries with this guy- whoever he was? Pretending he didn't hate him? He detested him already. No. It was clear - he couldn't take it anymore. He was nauseous, and his heart was banging around in his chest like an old jalopy.

"Yes." she said. "The problem is ... I don't think he's ... receptive."

"Not receptive..." he repeated, hardly listening. He would have to keep Jaime as far away from him as possible. Hopefully this new love was in Timbuktu. _No more. No more._ It was just too painful - too ridiculous. At least that much was truly clear to him. He could hardly bear to hold her close, and yet he couldn't stand to let her go.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him with concern. "Oscar - your heart..."

"Too much coffee." he said quickly. This embrace was excruciating - but it would be the last time he'd hold her. _Let her go. Say goodbye.  
_

"Jaime, there's not a man on the planet who wouldn't be receptive to you."he said dully, remembering that he should reassure her. He was probably blonde. And handsome, and young, of course, with rippling muscles, amazing stamina, white teeth and boyish charm, carefree and open to adventure.

"Really?" She drew back to look at him, her hazel eyes intense with something he couldn't identify. "Even you?"

"Me?" His scalp contracted in shock. He felt as though he was being flushed out from a hiding place. "I - I don't think I - uh" Jesus - what was he going to say? This didn't strike him as a good moment to be honest. She continued to bore holes in him with her eyes. "Well I'm maybe the sole exception - not that I don't care for you deeply."

Jaime sighed and put her head back against his shoulder. She felt heavy in his arms. "See what I mean? Not receptive."

Oscar frowned. She was in an odd state of mind. "What are you talking about?" he asked, confusion and anxiety evident in his voice.

She buried her face in his neck. "It's you, Oscar."

"_What's_ me?" he spluttered. "Who is this guy? And what do I have to do with this?" Why was she doing this to him?

She pulled out of his arms and stood back, looking at him in disbelief. "My God you're being dense!"She wrapped her hands around either side of his head, shook him a little and stared hard into his eyes. "It's _you_. You're the someone else, okay? Do you get it now?" She kissed his lips firmly and not particularly tenderly to demonstrate. "See? Get it?"

Time slowed to a crawl for Oscar at that moment, as this extraordinary information reverberated in his head. He was aware that he was blinking a lot, staring at her, otherwise completely frozen. "It's... ... me?" he asked tentatively, when he recovered his ability to speak. She gave him an exaggerated nod, still holding his head, as though it would somehow help penetrate what she clearly thought was a thick skull.

"It's ... _me_." he reaffirmed, frowning, staring at her through incredulous eyes.

Jaime nodded at him again, her expression moving from irritated to uncertain. Her hands dropped to his shoulders. "I know it's weird after all these years..." she said, sounding apologetic. Oscar had to force himself to listen. There was a kind of rushing noise in his head that made it difficult. "I just figured it out myself."

_Why does she look so sad?_

"You don't have to say anything." She looked at the floor. He was feeling incredibly slow, like his brain was mired in a swamp...but it was dawning on him that she looked sad because of _him_. _She _needed_ his _reassurance. A warmth bloomed in the center of his chest. She looked into his eyes again. "I know it's ridiculous, but I just wanted to..."she stalled as she watched a small smile on his face transform into an enormous grin, "...try..." She smiled hesitantly.

A big deep laugh burst from him. He scooped her into his arms and lifted her right off her feet. She yelped in surprise. He laughed for pure joy, he laughed at his own obtuseness, at her anger at him, at this incredible, inconceivable moment in his life - a moment he had dreamed of for years and had thought was impossible. Surely he was about to wake up. Jaime wrapped herself around him and laughed too.

Their laughter faded when he nuzzled his face close to hers. He closed his eyes. To hold her this way, to openly contemplate her slender body against his - on top of the emotional trauma of the last few minutes - was almost too much for him. He felt dangerously weak kneed. She moved to kiss him, and he found himself pulling away.

"Hey." she frowned.

"I don't want to wake up yet."

"Wake up?"

"I have these...dreams about you... and every time they begin to get ... interesting... I wake up."

"Really?" Jaime's eyes widened. She was clearly intrigued.

"Just before I saw you the last time I was caressing a spot under your collarbone."

"Like this? she asked softly, slipping one hand onto his chest, under his tie, threading her fingers through shirt buttons to the warm skin beneath.

He closed his eyes. "Yeah." he replied, his voice almost nonexistent.

Jaime kissed his cheek gently. "You won't wake up."

"Promise?" he asked, captivated by the closeness of her mouth to his.

"Promise."

Tentatively, his heart racing, he pressed his lips lightly to hers. She made a tiny sound in her throat, a little "hmm" that sent a current of passion through him. He was overwhelmed by the contradictory feelings he had at that moment. He was weak, yet he felt incredibly powerful. He was faint, but more keenly alert and alive than ever. It was a painful ecstasy. Nobody had ever made him feel this way. How could he communicate all this to her?

She would know through this kiss. She would know how much he loved her and wanted her, that he belonged entirely to her.

The intercom buzzed twice before either of them heard it. They both stared at the interloper. Oscar glanced at her apologetically before he leaned down, still holding her tight, to push the button.

"Yes, Callahan?" he said in a neutral tone. Jaime placed a lingering kiss on his neck, just below the ear. He closed his eyes and gulped.

"It's the call you had scheduled with the Vice-President, Mr. Goldman."

"Ohhhh. Right." he sighed, looking at Jaime with another mute apology. "Can you stall him for two minutes?"

"Sure thing Mr. Goldman."

"It's okay." she reassured him as he reluctantly set her back on the ground.

"Tonight? Ah...dinner?" he asked, only wanting her - not dinner - but not daring to presume.

"Seven. My hotel. Room service." she smiled, taking his hands in hers and backing toward the door.

"Seven? That might as well be next week. Six?"

"Six." she affirmed, and moved to the door. He followed, deeply reluctant to let her go. "Hey." he said, stopping her. "I love you."

"I know." she smiled. "Room 207. Oh - and you'd better call Rudy and tell him you won't be running tomorrow. Tell him it's okay. Tell him I'll be keeping an eye on you. "

The door closed behind her. He exhaled and moved toward the telephone. Unless the Vice President was accompanied by a brass band, Oscar doubted he'd hear a word that was said.


	6. Chapter 6

Once in the hotel he checked his watch again and slowed his pace. He was four minutes early. The three hours since she'd left him had given him plenty of time to get nervous. He decided to walk the circumference of the lobby, and perhaps spend an agonizing minute or so looking at the junk in the gift shop window. _Had she really meant it? She seemed like she did..._ He decided to take the stairs slowly. As he reached the first landing he became aware that there was someone else in the stairwell. He pushed the door to the second floor open, passed through and stepped aside to see if he was being followed. The man who arrived just behind him was familiar. Of course. Security. Oscar gripped his arm and directed him back to the stairwell. "Mason. Take the night off."

Mason looked doubtful. "Are you sure, Sir?"

"I'm sure. I'll be fine." Mason disappeared back down the stairs and Oscar strode off down the endless hallway to room 207. He panicked momentarily, convincing himself he hadn't remembered the room number correctly. He knocked. Barely a moment passed before she opened the door, smiling at him, her eyes sparkling. She beckoned him in.

The room was dim, illuminated only by candles which she had lit throughout. His stomach bounced from a combination of nervousness and delight. To think she would do that for him...

"I think you're overdressed for this occasion, Mr Goldman." she said softly. "Your jacket?" He hurriedly slipped it off and threw it over a chair. She took hold of his tie as she moved close to him. "The tie too, I think." She began to loosen it from his neck. Oscar simply stood and watched her. She was wearing a silky kimono kind of thing (he wasn't up on women's clothing styles) and a slightly shy smile. She was of course, heartbreakingly beautiful. She began to undo the top buttons of his shirt. He was sure he would never have a rational moment again. Was he ready for this? Would Steve kick his ass from here to next week when he found out? Did he care about anything other than Jaime? Was he going to spend the rest of his life completely mesmerized in the presence of this woman?

Well, there seemed to be no point worrying now, as he was already holding her and kissing her warm and receptive lips like there was no tomorrow. His nervousness had disappeared. He was now only aware of the overwhelming need he felt for her.

She put her hands on his hips and pulled him tight to her. He could feel her mouth form a smile and he pulled back to look at her. "What's funny?"

"Is that a..." He interrupted her with a kiss. He knew exactly what she was going to say.

"Don't say it." he replied in a mock warning tone.

Her smile grew wider and she persisted. "Is that a g..."

He stopped her again with a kiss. "Don't!" he laughed, and began to move her backwards toward the bed.

"Is that a gun in..." Another kiss. "...your pocket" she added hurriedly, laughing, before he kissed her again. This time he lingered. He lowered her to the bed and she pulled him down to her.

"The oldest line in the book." He said quietly, shaking his head at her in mock reproach. He tenderly brushed a few stray hairs from her face.

"It's a legitimate question." Her voice was silky, and she was smiling slyly. She pulled at his shirt till it was untucked, and ran her hands up the sides of his body.

"I'm just _very, very_ happy to see you." he whispered. He slipped his hand under the kimono collar and gently eased the fabric off her shoulder. Jaime inhaled and looked deeply into his eyes. She looked so vulnerable and so trusting he thought his heart might break. He smiled slightly and ran his thumb along the hollow under her collarbone, where it connected to her shoulder. He slowly and sensually kissed her neck, her collarbone, and her bare shoulder, while he pulled the kimono from the other shoulder.

To think that a month ago Jaime couldn't even imagine him in pyjamas, and now she was desperate to get him out of his clothes. "I think you're still overdressed, Mr. Goldman." she whispered in his ear. She pulled his shirt up and over his head. He rose up, yanked it from his arms, threw it aside, and lowered himself to her again. She arched her back, melding herself into his body. He groaned with pleasure.

"I've never loved anyone like this." he whispered, covering her with kisses. "I've never wanted anyone this way."

"I'm all yours." she breathed, her body and heart completely on fire.

Oscar woke as he always did, at six. Jaime was asleep, her arm around him and her head on his chest. He had just had the best 12 hours of his life. He wanted badly to stay in this room, possibly forever, but he was expected at a meeting at eight. He was going to look like something the cat dragged in. He had slept what - perhaps an hour? He could shave and change his shirt and tie at the office, but Callahan would guess immediately. She had seen him spend countless nights in that place, but he knew today he would have the look of someone well loved - something Callahan had never seen on him before. He supposed she might even be pleased for him. He sighed and closed his eyes and rested his cheek against Jaime's forehead. _Just five more minutes..._


	7. Epilogue

She woke to the sound of waves and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Where was she? As she woke further she remembered - they were in Maine. They'd arrived last night, laden with baggage and groceries, to this delightful clapboard fisherman's cottage, right on the ocean. They'd built a fire in the fireplace, cooked fish for dinner, and had spent the rest of the evening cuddled together watching the fire. It was the kind of joy you feel when you have the undivided attention of the one person in the world you want close. And when that person is the Director of the OSI and he hasn't said the words "national security"all evening, nor has he gone near a telephone - and what's more he seems to be deeply in love with you - it doesn't get much better. It had been a heavenly start to their vacation.

It wasn't the ocean that had woken her just now. It was that particular discomfort of having lain in one position too long. She needed to shift, but was squeezed tightly between a dog on one side and a man on the other. She wriggled, hoping one or the other of them would take the hint. Nothing. Time to employ the elbows. Oscar only grunted, but Max jumped down and Jaime shifted over to the space he'd occupied, sighing in relief. Oscar drew in a large breath. Did she wake him? She had her answer one moment later when he raised one long, lean arm and made an invisible scratch on an invisible chalk board in the air and said in a voice thick with sleep, "Oscar Goldman - one, Max the dog - fifty."

Jaime giggled. "Are you in some kind of competition with the _dog_? That is just sad."

"Mmm-hmm. The contest for your affections."

"You should never compete with Max, honey. You'll lose. Especially in a foot race."She grasped his hand in the air and pulled it down to her.

"Well," he sighed drowsily, "I can't win the war, but I love it when I take the occasional battle."

"You are such a goof." she said affectionately. "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"Oh no." He suddenly sounded alert. "I'm awake now, and it's all your fault ... and I'm going to show you..." he grabbed her abruptly, wrestling her close to him, causing her to whoop and wriggle, "...what happens when you don't let sleeping dogs lie!"

"You are insatiable." she laughed. "Don't you know how old you are?"

"I just can't seem to get enough of you." he said quietly. He loosened his hold on her and propped himself up on one elbow. His voice became serious. "But.. is it... too much?"

"Well..." she started. She traced the line of his lips with her index finger. Long before she had figured out how she felt about him she thought he had a kissable mouth. In these last three weeks it had been very pleasurable to discover (and rediscover, at every available opportunity) how true that was.

He cleared his throat. "You were saying?"

"I'm sorry, baby." she said, realizing she had left his question unanswered. " I just get very distracted when you're so close to me." She pushed him back down and rolled with him. "Silly man. You forget I'm the bionic woman."

This was shaping up to be a fabulous holiday.


End file.
